they see
these
lipsticked
strawberries
and
pine
for kisses.
my lips
are designed
for sins;
a pout for
things
to be placed
between.
these rocky
horror
reds
aid & abet
my bed-
beckoned
men
to beg.
okay,
kiss my
crimson twins.
a lustful
blood flood
banquet
begins
and he
forgets
where
his
nerve
ends.
my hinged
vermilions
undid him;
and
my lips
win
again
10.12.2010
booze is sexy
two drinks
get
me pretty
shitty
faced.
and now
I feel
pretty-faced
and able
to join
the
beauty
rat race.
my legs
embrace
liquor
and lovingly
elope with
elevation;
I can stand
atop
sexy
skyscrapers
my shit
is thinner
after gin;
gone are
my double chins,
and I'm not
imagining
these
lascivious
hips;
they're
screaming
for sex.
rum
makes
my bum
sublime.
my cinnamon
swirls are
the envy of
all girls:
tight and
toned,
ready to be
boned,
these cheeks
pound pride
beneath my
clothes.
brandy
makes my
boobs
bountiful
and bouncy;
it breathes a
lusty blond
breeze
between my
tendrils.
but vodka.
vodka is the
best
of expectations.
vodka invites
invectives
and
elective
lost clothes.
vodka loves
my lips
begs my
vagina
to vie
for a dick.
and tomorrow,
vodka
forgets
?
get
me pretty
shitty
faced.
and now
I feel
pretty-faced
and able
to join
the
beauty
rat race.
my legs
embrace
liquor
and lovingly
elope with
elevation;
I can stand
atop
sexy
skyscrapers
my shit
is thinner
after gin;
gone are
my double chins,
and I'm not
imagining
these
lascivious
hips;
they're
screaming
for sex.
rum
makes
my bum
sublime.
my cinnamon
swirls are
the envy of
all girls:
tight and
toned,
ready to be
boned,
these cheeks
pound pride
beneath my
clothes.
brandy
makes my
boobs
bountiful
and bouncy;
it breathes a
lusty blond
breeze
between my
tendrils.
but vodka.
vodka is the
best
of expectations.
vodka invites
invectives
and
elective
lost clothes.
vodka loves
my lips
begs my
vagina
to vie
for a dick.
and tomorrow,
vodka
forgets
?
9.29.2010
you said fruit wasn't sexy
fresh fruit
ripens best
when caressed,
like your hands
between my breasts.
I am sweet,
too;
seduce me
like
fruit
like strawberries
in august,
my flesh begs
for your breath
upon it
my fig lips
lilt
sweetly
for your kiss;
they
are ripe
for
picking.
paw my
papaya
between your
palms
and
lick
the sexy
slick
pit
and notice
how black
centers
summon
nectar;
they
beckon
and
beg
to be
fed.
ripens best
when caressed,
like your hands
between my breasts.
I am sweet,
too;
seduce me
like
fruit
like strawberries
in august,
my flesh begs
for your breath
upon it
my fig lips
lilt
sweetly
for your kiss;
they
are ripe
for
picking.
paw my
papaya
between your
palms
and
lick
the sexy
slick
pit
and notice
how black
centers
summon
nectar;
they
beckon
and
beg
to be
fed.
for him
she is
waiting
beneath
a roaring
sky
for the rain
to remind
her
that she's
alive.
her insides
howl
with dead leaves
dried;
she cowers
beneath
forests
of lies.
long live
her sickness
to cyclone
itself into
maddness.
she wants
to watch
colors die
and cry
liquid lies
to write
against
her skin.
she prays
for pain
and blooms
an anguish
she enjoys.
all this shit
all for a boy.
waiting
beneath
a roaring
sky
for the rain
to remind
her
that she's
alive.
her insides
howl
with dead leaves
dried;
she cowers
beneath
forests
of lies.
long live
her sickness
to cyclone
itself into
maddness.
she wants
to watch
colors die
and cry
liquid lies
to write
against
her skin.
she prays
for pain
and blooms
an anguish
she enjoys.
all this shit
all for a boy.
taller
I want to strut
stilettos
for him.
some
four-incher
tight pant
pinchers
slim limb
bimbo
bouncers
pronouncing
pouncers.
this
skyscraper
thigh shaker
shit
isn't for
beginners;
my limbs
long for sin.
I want
this
patent leather
prance
to permeate
his
pleasure centers.
Fascinate your
fantasies
with visions of
licorice long stems
and longing
and
foggy glass.
ogle these legs
up to my ass
and plan your
palm to pass a grasp
then grab.
then gasp.
wrap these
rocketship sex shoes
around you
and let's
blast to the
moon.
stilettos
for him.
some
four-incher
tight pant
pinchers
slim limb
bimbo
bouncers
pronouncing
pouncers.
this
skyscraper
thigh shaker
shit
isn't for
beginners;
my limbs
long for sin.
I want
this
patent leather
prance
to permeate
his
pleasure centers.
Fascinate your
fantasies
with visions of
licorice long stems
and longing
and
foggy glass.
ogle these legs
up to my ass
and plan your
palm to pass a grasp
then grab.
then gasp.
wrap these
rocketship sex shoes
around you
and let's
blast to the
moon.
9.14.2010
infestation
this
spider
looks like
chamomile
tea leaves.
it spindles
across her lips
and she lets
it.
she has a death
wish.
she washes
it
thick
in
deterrent
detergent.
Cheer.
and
spider
inside her
negotiates
escapes
beneath the
breath
she bates.
she prays.
she waits.
she lets
spider
sew
and hopes
its
circle
lets her
go
spider
looks like
chamomile
tea leaves.
it spindles
across her lips
and she lets
it.
she has a death
wish.
she washes
it
thick
in
deterrent
detergent.
Cheer.
and
spider
inside her
negotiates
escapes
beneath the
breath
she bates.
she prays.
she waits.
she lets
spider
sew
and hopes
its
circle
lets her
go
men have penises for brains
you
are too
easy,
mister
sleazy.
does this skin
get you off?
ooh,
yes.
how soft.
and this breast;
are you erect
yet,
erection set?
my ass
is begging
for your boner;
bring home the bacon,
baby.
are you longing for
my lips
to fondle
with your dick?
yum
slick.
what if
I touched myself
like this:
trace fingers
south
against my
hips?
would you
like
some of this?
I bet,
big boy.
If you're
good
I let you
play
with my
toys.
are too
easy,
mister
sleazy.
does this skin
get you off?
ooh,
yes.
how soft.
and this breast;
are you erect
yet,
erection set?
my ass
is begging
for your boner;
bring home the bacon,
baby.
are you longing for
my lips
to fondle
with your dick?
yum
slick.
what if
I touched myself
like this:
trace fingers
south
against my
hips?
would you
like
some of this?
I bet,
big boy.
If you're
good
I let you
play
with my
toys.
a hole
the
unholy
pink
hole
that you
pump your
pompous pole
protrusion
into
promises
not
to get
unglued.
he's just
this
dude.
who
looks like
sex.
musk
and cigarettes.
a different
set
of
should
expects
are erect.
I reject
his
wrecked effects
and wretched
affections.
I switch
the subject
and interject
an
eject.
at this
junction
I jot
sexmusk mister
sinster
an obituary.
this bitch
buries
the
barely believable
lies
that reside
in skin
hammocks.
lower your
pole
and find
a new
hole.
unholy
pink
hole
that you
pump your
pompous pole
protrusion
into
promises
not
to get
unglued.
he's just
this
dude.
who
looks like
sex.
musk
and cigarettes.
a different
set
of
should
expects
are erect.
I reject
his
wrecked effects
and wretched
affections.
I switch
the subject
and interject
an
eject.
at this
junction
I jot
sexmusk mister
sinster
an obituary.
this bitch
buries
the
barely believable
lies
that reside
in skin
hammocks.
lower your
pole
and find
a new
hole.
ownership
what is this body to you,
dude?
skin to screw,
a boat
to float into
so
your balls
won't bounce
blue?
press that
sex
strained
face
skywards
and put me
on
me like
prom flowers
then
use up
my juice
and go junking.
dude?
skin to screw,
a boat
to float into
so
your balls
won't bounce
blue?
press that
sex
strained
face
skywards
and put me
on
me like
prom flowers
then
use up
my juice
and go junking.
7.19.2010
dad digs through trash
father fracture figure
has embarrassed us
again.
He digs
through
garbage
to salvage
our trash;
rotted beef
and
things
he values
more than us.
climb in,
father.
enjoy the heap
of fetid
refuse
to which we've
tossed you,
useless
sewage.
while you
park
in our pile
of waste,
see if you
can find
the last
of our hopes
from
years ago.
did you find
the
thanks
for years
of adviseless
crisis
and the ass
you'd
rather pick at
than have
a family?
you disgrace me.
replaced
me.
and all the dreams
I placed on repeat
of the things you
could be
are gone
to the
garbage.
they weren't
worth
your
trash forage,
and only
my forgiveness
will get me
far
away
from you.
has embarrassed us
again.
He digs
through
garbage
to salvage
our trash;
rotted beef
and
things
he values
more than us.
climb in,
father.
enjoy the heap
of fetid
refuse
to which we've
tossed you,
useless
sewage.
while you
park
in our pile
of waste,
see if you
can find
the last
of our hopes
from
years ago.
did you find
the
thanks
for years
of adviseless
crisis
and the ass
you'd
rather pick at
than have
a family?
you disgrace me.
replaced
me.
and all the dreams
I placed on repeat
of the things you
could be
are gone
to the
garbage.
they weren't
worth
your
trash forage,
and only
my forgiveness
will get me
far
away
from you.
prayers
this faith based
escape tower
has yet to topple
so I thank
god
for the
beauty
that makes
me believe.
this is all
I have
at the end of my
day,
my mainstay
life frame
to which
I pray
for grace
and fewer gray
days.
Him
and my hope,
otherwise
I'm
alone
escape tower
has yet to topple
so I thank
god
for the
beauty
that makes
me believe.
this is all
I have
at the end of my
day,
my mainstay
life frame
to which
I pray
for grace
and fewer gray
days.
Him
and my hope,
otherwise
I'm
alone
gravity
I breathe a
beating
bowling ball
that bludgeons
behind
my breasts.
I want to
tear it
from my
chest
to show
you
my inner
winter
sob fest
and what a
positive
pest
this pain can
persist.
I want my
bowling ball
burden
to blacken
eyes;
I want to share
the darkness
I hide
and hire
someone
to color
my insides
white
sunlight.
I'm tired
of this fight
with heavy things
and all the weight
blackness brings.
I'd roll this
sphere
from my chest
if I were
sure
it's ghost
wouldn't persist
beating
bowling ball
that bludgeons
behind
my breasts.
I want to
tear it
from my
chest
to show
you
my inner
winter
sob fest
and what a
positive
pest
this pain can
persist.
I want my
bowling ball
burden
to blacken
eyes;
I want to share
the darkness
I hide
and hire
someone
to color
my insides
white
sunlight.
I'm tired
of this fight
with heavy things
and all the weight
blackness brings.
I'd roll this
sphere
from my chest
if I were
sure
it's ghost
wouldn't persist
home
I hate this
plaster place.
disaster
disgrace place.
confined to the
corroded
corners of my mind,
I pray to poetry
to placate
the pain,
an elective
embrace
of syllables
to zipper these
acid wounds.
god gives
gifts
through
this conscious;
a pandora's
box opera,
a pantheon
of syllabic
options
to
occupy
my
disquieted
mind
until
I have
an island
of my own.
I'll live
in language
until then.
A castle in
my conscience
of
lyrical
correspondence,
my self
and
my god.
plaster place.
disaster
disgrace place.
confined to the
corroded
corners of my mind,
I pray to poetry
to placate
the pain,
an elective
embrace
of syllables
to zipper these
acid wounds.
god gives
gifts
through
this conscious;
a pandora's
box opera,
a pantheon
of syllabic
options
to
occupy
my
disquieted
mind
until
I have
an island
of my own.
I'll live
in language
until then.
A castle in
my conscience
of
lyrical
correspondence,
my self
and
my god.
mister
he is currency
for her emotional state.
a sad masturbate
waste of fate
flood gate
and the saltiest
tears
stream her face.
her tears
spear
angry arrows
to hollow
my heart
against her,
but all of this
is for him.
him:
mister invisible.
mister
makes her
miserable.
mister,
I didn't consider her.
all this water
work
wallowing
swallows us whole
and it is
mister
who wins.
for her emotional state.
a sad masturbate
waste of fate
flood gate
and the saltiest
tears
stream her face.
her tears
spear
angry arrows
to hollow
my heart
against her,
but all of this
is for him.
him:
mister invisible.
mister
makes her
miserable.
mister,
I didn't consider her.
all this water
work
wallowing
swallows us whole
and it is
mister
who wins.
6.04.2010
him
he makes me
imagine
hand sewn
seed pearls
on
white sleeves
and what it
means
to be
loved.
his glance
is a gift,
a glass galaxy
boxed
in promise
and collaged
across my
iris
he is my
every
possibility,
and I,
his
Isis
to birth
bird baths of
beauty for us
to swim in.
we create
a honey space
of loving embrace
to bask
in each other's
grace
and all
I have left is
thanks.
imagine
hand sewn
seed pearls
on
white sleeves
and what it
means
to be
loved.
his glance
is a gift,
a glass galaxy
boxed
in promise
and collaged
across my
iris
he is my
every
possibility,
and I,
his
Isis
to birth
bird baths of
beauty for us
to swim in.
we create
a honey space
of loving embrace
to bask
in each other's
grace
and all
I have left is
thanks.
oil change
he polishes
a soft cloth
carwash
wax
on
and
off
across
this physique.
make me
squeak,
mr. mechanic.
no need to
clean
this
dirty
interior;
press those
fingers
like piano
keys
across
my
leather
spine
and make
my horn
beep.
let them
hear us
across the
street
and pump
it through
morning
till birds
tweet.
a soft cloth
carwash
wax
on
and
off
across
this physique.
make me
squeak,
mr. mechanic.
no need to
clean
this
dirty
interior;
press those
fingers
like piano
keys
across
my
leather
spine
and make
my horn
beep.
let them
hear us
across the
street
and pump
it through
morning
till birds
tweet.
Jesus Saves
catholic girl
guilt
quilts
her conscience
in plaid
fabric
and patent
mary janes.
jesus saves,
mary jane.
stiff collars
alter
offer
alcohol and Him
original sin
virgins
all
embedded within.
stiff collars
bother
the
blossoming
skin
where
her hickeys
are finished.
alters
of
soft carpet
to worship his
dick.
offers
impart
wetness
from her
dark
garden
alcohol and him
pound a gospel
of sins
through her
skin
original sin
licks
her insides
virgins
and all that
pure shit
sit
at opposite
places of this
space.
Grace be to God.
guilt
quilts
her conscience
in plaid
fabric
and patent
mary janes.
jesus saves,
mary jane.
stiff collars
alter
offer
alcohol and Him
original sin
virgins
all
embedded within.
stiff collars
bother
the
blossoming
skin
where
her hickeys
are finished.
alters
of
soft carpet
to worship his
dick.
offers
impart
wetness
from her
dark
garden
alcohol and him
pound a gospel
of sins
through her
skin
original sin
licks
her insides
virgins
and all that
pure shit
sit
at opposite
places of this
space.
Grace be to God.
bruised fruit
she bruises too
easily.
this plumage
of blue
blooms
a booming
fruitful
suit fabric.
a bruise suit.
a first base
suitcase
just in case
this pain
escapes
this laced
frame
main stay,
a playplace
briefcase
attache
attached sad
face.
a displaced sad
face
mental case
she
needs this space
to set ablaze
this blemish,
a blueish
contusion
of wounds
that winds
this
watermelonwoman
rind.
she is so
unsweet
to this
bruised
fruit
to which she
hikes her
unlaced
steel toed
boots.
an unkind rewind
rewards
from behind
while
watermelonwoman's
rind
cries.
broken
blood
vessels
sting
grief.
she
repeats
these
injuries
too easily
easily.
this plumage
of blue
blooms
a booming
fruitful
suit fabric.
a bruise suit.
a first base
suitcase
just in case
this pain
escapes
this laced
frame
main stay,
a playplace
briefcase
attache
attached sad
face.
a displaced sad
face
mental case
she
needs this space
to set ablaze
this blemish,
a blueish
contusion
of wounds
that winds
this
watermelonwoman
rind.
she is so
unsweet
to this
bruised
fruit
to which she
hikes her
unlaced
steel toed
boots.
an unkind rewind
rewards
from behind
while
watermelonwoman's
rind
cries.
broken
blood
vessels
sting
grief.
she
repeats
these
injuries
too easily
5.22.2010
evening the score
his
bad battery
acid
blasts
scald
insults
upon this skin,
a sick
sin
indigenous
to your lips.
pick your
lick of
invectives
to stick
into my spine;
twist like
pins,
laugh through
my cries
and send
mad acid
tears
to ravage
revenge
with my
pen.
to you
this shit is
worthless;
my success
gathers in
phrases
unafraid
of emotional
access.
I spin
a poetic
axis
to take an ax
across
these
lacerations
you've
lashed at
me.
I'll bash
your battery
to bleed badly
and write a toast
to boast
my new bloody
lottery.
I'll roast
marshmallows
over this
corpse
you'll see
bad battery
acid
blasts
scald
insults
upon this skin,
a sick
sin
indigenous
to your lips.
pick your
lick of
invectives
to stick
into my spine;
twist like
pins,
laugh through
my cries
and send
mad acid
tears
to ravage
revenge
with my
pen.
to you
this shit is
worthless;
my success
gathers in
phrases
unafraid
of emotional
access.
I spin
a poetic
axis
to take an ax
across
these
lacerations
you've
lashed at
me.
I'll bash
your battery
to bleed badly
and write a toast
to boast
my new bloody
lottery.
I'll roast
marshmallows
over this
corpse
you'll see
interrupter
please excuse
my loquacious
nature,
whatever it was
I had to say,
sir,
is no match
for your
more important
matters.
can't
you back
faster
to flee this
disaster
that drips
from my lips?
has this discussion
slipped your
grip?
don't trip
on this nondescript
loss of interest
listed as
your prescription.
skip a sense
of ethics,
a well mannered
moral code
doesn't sleep
soundly in
your unhumble
abode.
so just go.
find
someone else's
time to
blow.
I'll rhyme
wicked flow
to own alone
and soak
in something
you could
have known.
my loquacious
nature,
whatever it was
I had to say,
sir,
is no match
for your
more important
matters.
can't
you back
faster
to flee this
disaster
that drips
from my lips?
has this discussion
slipped your
grip?
don't trip
on this nondescript
loss of interest
listed as
your prescription.
skip a sense
of ethics,
a well mannered
moral code
doesn't sleep
soundly in
your unhumble
abode.
so just go.
find
someone else's
time to
blow.
I'll rhyme
wicked flow
to own alone
and soak
in something
you could
have known.
5.21.2010
sweet stuff
I must profess
an obsession:
the things
you should do
to
bed me.
sweep
your eyes
across me
while I'm
watching.
like this
sight.
say I smell
sweet
and accidentally
touch me.
say this skin
is soft
and linger
those fingers
upon it
a little too
long
feed the
first bite
of sweets
to me;
remember
I love
peanut butter
and cheese.
charge
lilacs
on your
credit card;
I'll let
these legs
a little off
guard.
babe
and beautiful
bear fruit
for fucking;
feed me these
treats
and I'll be at
your feet.
brush
fallen
locks of bronze
from my face
and trace
my skin
to the nape
of my
neck,
kiss me
someplace
I didn't
expect
listen
while I'm
talking
(though I promise
to exhaust you)
and know
how I take my
coffee.
make lame
jokes
only we
own,
and tell me
I'm gorgeous,
even with
morning breath.
complete
these
necessities
and you'll have
me fallen
head over
feet.
an obsession:
the things
you should do
to
bed me.
sweep
your eyes
across me
while I'm
watching.
like this
sight.
say I smell
sweet
and accidentally
touch me.
say this skin
is soft
and linger
those fingers
upon it
a little too
long
feed the
first bite
of sweets
to me;
remember
I love
peanut butter
and cheese.
charge
lilacs
on your
credit card;
I'll let
these legs
a little off
guard.
babe
and beautiful
bear fruit
for fucking;
feed me these
treats
and I'll be at
your feet.
brush
fallen
locks of bronze
from my face
and trace
my skin
to the nape
of my
neck,
kiss me
someplace
I didn't
expect
listen
while I'm
talking
(though I promise
to exhaust you)
and know
how I take my
coffee.
make lame
jokes
only we
own,
and tell me
I'm gorgeous,
even with
morning breath.
complete
these
necessities
and you'll have
me fallen
head over
feet.
he said/she said
I.
he says
this ass
is as soft
as a buttermilk
buscuit,
and makes me
want to come
quick.
spill this
shit all
over it,
spit,
lick,
and stick
in my dick.
man, that body's
sick.
makes me wanna
do rude shit:
screw these two
boobs
to rub
balls between,
mean schween
to make her scream
obscene.
shift my shaft
to ride this
rift
in this ass
and put
my palms
all
places
they don't
belong.
where have
I been
to miss this
gift, girl?
she makes
this mast shaft
dick spit shit quick.
she jacks my mojo
and makes me echo
mad flow.
II.
I hope he's
fit for this.
sick nit wits
sit dimwitted
spit
dumb shit
in this direction.
this chick
doesn't take
shit.
she
scratches
a foulscowl
word bath
bitch back
trash
at this
mr. slimjim
dickstick.
Mr.
joke.
Mr.
guitar
pick prick
I'd rip
to package
in a pickle jar.
Spit that shit
far from
my ears
and sit his
ass on all fours
like the damn
dog
you've devolved
into
wag that crap
somewhere else.
you wish,
mister come
quick.
he says
this ass
is as soft
as a buttermilk
buscuit,
and makes me
want to come
quick.
spill this
shit all
over it,
spit,
lick,
and stick
in my dick.
man, that body's
sick.
makes me wanna
do rude shit:
screw these two
boobs
to rub
balls between,
mean schween
to make her scream
obscene.
shift my shaft
to ride this
rift
in this ass
and put
my palms
all
places
they don't
belong.
where have
I been
to miss this
gift, girl?
she makes
this mast shaft
dick spit shit quick.
she jacks my mojo
and makes me echo
mad flow.
II.
I hope he's
fit for this.
sick nit wits
sit dimwitted
spit
dumb shit
in this direction.
this chick
doesn't take
shit.
she
scratches
a foulscowl
word bath
bitch back
trash
at this
mr. slimjim
dickstick.
Mr.
joke.
Mr.
guitar
pick prick
I'd rip
to package
in a pickle jar.
Spit that shit
far from
my ears
and sit his
ass on all fours
like the damn
dog
you've devolved
into
wag that crap
somewhere else.
you wish,
mister come
quick.
a note to shannon
please don't
read these
treats
without
caffeine.
I know you
wait to
see
these new
pieces
with parceled
patience
but please,
have coffee
first.
I birthed
this batch
of beautiful
words
for you
to bathe
between;
bask
in bountiful
fields of
phrases
to frolic
within
But don't
forget
the liquid
coke.
I know when
you awoke
your mind was
broke,
hay hair
pointing everywhere
and flood pant
pajamas
slipping past
your buttcrack;
how can you
expect to
read this
with exactness?
you should
not try this
stuff at home
in sleep comas.
plug into
your potion
then spread
this poetry
like lotion.
love you.
read these
treats
without
caffeine.
I know you
wait to
see
these new
pieces
with parceled
patience
but please,
have coffee
first.
I birthed
this batch
of beautiful
words
for you
to bathe
between;
bask
in bountiful
fields of
phrases
to frolic
within
But don't
forget
the liquid
coke.
I know when
you awoke
your mind was
broke,
hay hair
pointing everywhere
and flood pant
pajamas
slipping past
your buttcrack;
how can you
expect to
read this
with exactness?
you should
not try this
stuff at home
in sleep comas.
plug into
your potion
then spread
this poetry
like lotion.
love you.
I won't wear lipstick for you anymore
I have
lipstick
on my cheek,
sweet feet,
he whispers
discreetly
and sneaks
a finger
to swipe
my cosmetics
southwards.
what's
the rush
to remove my
rouge,
mister
rugged?
does my
crimson
lipped kiss
dismiss your
notions of
manliness?
I've barely
branded
bare skin
to sing
with delicious
sins
before
you erase
this score.
I won't wear
lipstick
for you
anymore.
you think
this kissing
thing is such
a chore
please don't
be surprised
next week
when I've found
new cheeks
to piece
my lips
upon
lipstick
on my cheek,
sweet feet,
he whispers
discreetly
and sneaks
a finger
to swipe
my cosmetics
southwards.
what's
the rush
to remove my
rouge,
mister
rugged?
does my
crimson
lipped kiss
dismiss your
notions of
manliness?
I've barely
branded
bare skin
to sing
with delicious
sins
before
you erase
this score.
I won't wear
lipstick
for you
anymore.
you think
this kissing
thing is such
a chore
please don't
be surprised
next week
when I've found
new cheeks
to piece
my lips
upon
5.14.2010
deep sea diving
what is this
aggressive
shape
snaking
inside
his trousers?
please,
asks,
pump this
plump
protrusion
to plug
with blood,
and pounce this.
I ponder the possibility:
could my mouth
pronounce
around it?
Oh
lips open
overt,
slide
over
and
around an
eel-ish
organ,
a fleshy
skin fish
swims
in juices
after a
joust with
my mouth
his pleasure
package
skinfish
seems
to finish quick
aggressive
shape
snaking
inside
his trousers?
please,
asks,
pump this
plump
protrusion
to plug
with blood,
and pounce this.
I ponder the possibility:
could my mouth
pronounce
around it?
Oh
lips open
overt,
slide
over
and
around an
eel-ish
organ,
a fleshy
skin fish
swims
in juices
after a
joust with
my mouth
his pleasure
package
skinfish
seems
to finish quick
ripe
like the snake,
you wait
for me to scale
you.
these trees'
leaves
gleam unseemly
green
where you greet me.
impale me
please,
priapus,
this fruit
you suggest
oozes
juices
too tempting to
resist.
I've
invested
in your sin,
slithered across
those glistening
stripes
strapped
to a trap
and a
trip
to hell
we will
set ablaze
this place,
disgrace
decency's
dogma raw
and thaw this
once icey
law.
you wait
for me to scale
you.
these trees'
leaves
gleam unseemly
green
where you greet me.
impale me
please,
priapus,
this fruit
you suggest
oozes
juices
too tempting to
resist.
I've
invested
in your sin,
slithered across
those glistening
stripes
strapped
to a trap
and a
trip
to hell
we will
set ablaze
this place,
disgrace
decency's
dogma raw
and thaw this
once icey
law.
the game
I.
this game awaits
us to face.
we smile
sames
from far
away
where it is
safe
and feign
this front
for the public.
steer those
stares across me
owning
and I will pretend
not to notice.
this onus
upon us grows
as we slide
closer
II.
spill sideways
through this lightless
place
and
place those palms
where you'd like.
this skin
is a gift
for you to taste
and I am
your fruit,
ripe for the licking.
you'll
peel me free
of this pretense
and please this
skin a
brand new bliss.
III.
let's
embrace
a game
where we both
win
this game awaits
us to face.
we smile
sames
from far
away
where it is
safe
and feign
this front
for the public.
steer those
stares across me
owning
and I will pretend
not to notice.
this onus
upon us grows
as we slide
closer
II.
spill sideways
through this lightless
place
and
place those palms
where you'd like.
this skin
is a gift
for you to taste
and I am
your fruit,
ripe for the licking.
you'll
peel me free
of this pretense
and please this
skin a
brand new bliss.
III.
let's
embrace
a game
where we both
win
monsoon season
new hands
hurdle these
dry lands.
scotched skin
swallows
your sin
as you reside
inside
me.
plant these
seeds
to flower
a fire
that burns
between us,
a furnace
to further us,
and reign
electricity
to weave through
craving veins.
we deserve
to desert
these
sands;
a desert of
desperation
departs
our hearts
and we can
bask against
this new
skin.
hurdle these
dry lands.
scotched skin
swallows
your sin
as you reside
inside
me.
plant these
seeds
to flower
a fire
that burns
between us,
a furnace
to further us,
and reign
electricity
to weave through
craving veins.
we deserve
to desert
these
sands;
a desert of
desperation
departs
our hearts
and we can
bask against
this new
skin.
4.28.2010
fuck is more fun when you're female (a sestina)
I love to flick fuck off my tongue: Fuck.
A feisty Fffff forces a crack
from my mouth. The word is like rocks,
dense and damaging.
and hard for me to manage
some sort of self control
a single utterance is a defiance of control:
fuck you, fuck them, fuck that; fuck.
And why is it that manage
Starts with man? I’d crack
those cocks. Do some damage
to opinions that reside in those rocks,
and maybe throw some rocks
at those comptrollers and constant control.
I revel to ravage a trail of verbal damage
through this frequent friend, fuck.
I’ll curl this wondrous word to crack
at anger management
I’ll manage
that. And when this rocky
word wreaks havoc, crackles
at this self control,
I’ll sling savage fuck
some more and bask in this damage.
And Damn, the damage
I'll manage
with Fuck
in my pocket arsenal, like rock
and roll with no volume
control;
speakers crack.
I love to slip fuck through the cracks
like water through an aged dam.
Fuck control.
manage
man made rocks
to flood with fucks.
Fuck is my crack
Fuck is my damage
Fuck is my control
A feisty Fffff forces a crack
from my mouth. The word is like rocks,
dense and damaging.
and hard for me to manage
some sort of self control
a single utterance is a defiance of control:
fuck you, fuck them, fuck that; fuck.
And why is it that manage
Starts with man? I’d crack
those cocks. Do some damage
to opinions that reside in those rocks,
and maybe throw some rocks
at those comptrollers and constant control.
I revel to ravage a trail of verbal damage
through this frequent friend, fuck.
I’ll curl this wondrous word to crack
at anger management
I’ll manage
that. And when this rocky
word wreaks havoc, crackles
at this self control,
I’ll sling savage fuck
some more and bask in this damage.
And Damn, the damage
I'll manage
with Fuck
in my pocket arsenal, like rock
and roll with no volume
control;
speakers crack.
I love to slip fuck through the cracks
like water through an aged dam.
Fuck control.
manage
man made rocks
to flood with fucks.
Fuck is my crack
Fuck is my damage
Fuck is my control
4.27.2010
I'll never tell
I love to watch
the destruction
of something small,
a toppled stop sign
or
cracked glass
that spiders outwards
for months,
and think,
I'm the only one
who knows.
Passers will wonder
on the way to work
for weeks how
the wooden fence
across the street
splintered in halves?
I have these secrets.
Something to show
but never tell.
something to
snicker to myself.
I revel in these
little rewards
for watching the world;
millions
might know more
if they weren't always
so bored.
the destruction
of something small,
a toppled stop sign
or
cracked glass
that spiders outwards
for months,
and think,
I'm the only one
who knows.
Passers will wonder
on the way to work
for weeks how
the wooden fence
across the street
splintered in halves?
I have these secrets.
Something to show
but never tell.
something to
snicker to myself.
I revel in these
little rewards
for watching the world;
millions
might know more
if they weren't always
so bored.
bait
you've gutted me,
again.
a fish severed in
halves,
my
silver scales
sparkle across
your hands
and all I have
are inked
eyes
and face agape
to watch this
rape.
you escape
with ease
these
pieces of me
no please
for the place
to store
the shit
you stole
now I am
nothing
but this black hole
once whole
before this
stripped
stock.
when open season
cycles
I'll fish
fresh waters;
ravage you
useless
and toss
this carcass
to drown.
again.
a fish severed in
halves,
my
silver scales
sparkle across
your hands
and all I have
are inked
eyes
and face agape
to watch this
rape.
you escape
with ease
these
pieces of me
no please
for the place
to store
the shit
you stole
now I am
nothing
but this black hole
once whole
before this
stripped
stock.
when open season
cycles
I'll fish
fresh waters;
ravage you
useless
and toss
this carcass
to drown.
4.22.2010
tonight
we curl inside
this pile
of sewn feathers,
into a confettied cocoon
of cotton
we spoon.
our eyes sing
whispered wanting
that ripples across
orion's salted darkness
your fingers trace
my vanilla silhouette
and set ablaze a terrace
that melts us a buttery mess
I ask for forever through
sugared breaths and bet
this bed that he'll say yes.
this pile
of sewn feathers,
into a confettied cocoon
of cotton
we spoon.
our eyes sing
whispered wanting
that ripples across
orion's salted darkness
your fingers trace
my vanilla silhouette
and set ablaze a terrace
that melts us a buttery mess
I ask for forever through
sugared breaths and bet
this bed that he'll say yes.
thanks, but no thanks
fat fuels
a lifelong
battle
for beautiful.
I wage a war
with
a woman's
fattened shadow
showing
more than she
owns;
an onus
on burdened
shoulders
that should
stay locked
indoors.
things seem
so much easier
with slender
thighs
that reside
inches apart.
and how I hurt
for slim
hour glass
s hips,
slick abs,
and a set
of smiling
back dimples.
I pine for a
pair of
defined cheek
bones to brush
my pink blush
upon
and the kind
of skin that
vanilla
envies.
this girl is
not me.
God implanted
other plans
for these thick
hands;
I've been given
a plump set
of everything
and a superior
sense of humor
to laugh
at this
sick
self.
And I laugh
all day
at this
twisted
shit
I was
blessed with
when
beautiful blondes
bask in the acclaim
of everyman.
why do they deserve
beauty more than
me?
this waste of a deck
desperately begs
to be shuffled
when she holds the
royal flush.
and what a waste
to want so much
in a world where
we should show
thanks,
appreciate,
but I bend
backwards
to bask in hate.
I didn't ask for it;
I fell into this fate
and a face
I'm forced to live with,
God's gift
that I'm so sorry
to be spitting on.
I hope he can forgive
this.
a lifelong
battle
for beautiful.
I wage a war
with
a woman's
fattened shadow
showing
more than she
owns;
an onus
on burdened
shoulders
that should
stay locked
indoors.
things seem
so much easier
with slender
thighs
that reside
inches apart.
and how I hurt
for slim
hour glass
s hips,
slick abs,
and a set
of smiling
back dimples.
I pine for a
pair of
defined cheek
bones to brush
my pink blush
upon
and the kind
of skin that
vanilla
envies.
this girl is
not me.
God implanted
other plans
for these thick
hands;
I've been given
a plump set
of everything
and a superior
sense of humor
to laugh
at this
sick
self.
And I laugh
all day
at this
twisted
shit
I was
blessed with
when
beautiful blondes
bask in the acclaim
of everyman.
why do they deserve
beauty more than
me?
this waste of a deck
desperately begs
to be shuffled
when she holds the
royal flush.
and what a waste
to want so much
in a world where
we should show
thanks,
appreciate,
but I bend
backwards
to bask in hate.
I didn't ask for it;
I fell into this fate
and a face
I'm forced to live with,
God's gift
that I'm so sorry
to be spitting on.
I hope he can forgive
this.
worms
April showers
bring May
flowers,
and I always
remember to
tiptoe
in spring.
curtains of
rain
drain nearby
grassed patches
from which the
worms
exile,
slithering
naked bodies
onto wet concrete.
I sidestep
their curved
S's
as I slink across
the sidewalk
and think
about the
thousands
of nude tubes
who've died
for a new
season
I count
the few
I can save
with this
springtime
ballet
and hope
they know
this dance is
for them.
bring May
flowers,
and I always
remember to
tiptoe
in spring.
curtains of
rain
drain nearby
grassed patches
from which the
worms
exile,
slithering
naked bodies
onto wet concrete.
I sidestep
their curved
S's
as I slink across
the sidewalk
and think
about the
thousands
of nude tubes
who've died
for a new
season
I count
the few
I can save
with this
springtime
ballet
and hope
they know
this dance is
for them.
compost
What is
this sickness
we've created,
stacked brick
thick
for years
and lived
within?
this friend
fosters
snakelike
hate
sliming a
scaly
trail through
my trust,
trudging
on what
seemed so
steadfast.
it's
ending so fast.
I've plucked
her apple
and asked for a
handful
of
a rotted
mealy mess
we planted
and implanted,
and now our
garden
grows sick
produce,
swarms with
flies,
and blooms
broken buds.
we will
plant seeds
elsewhere
next spring.
this sickness
we've created,
stacked brick
thick
for years
and lived
within?
this friend
fosters
snakelike
hate
sliming a
scaly
trail through
my trust,
trudging
on what
seemed so
steadfast.
it's
ending so fast.
I've plucked
her apple
and asked for a
handful
of
a rotted
mealy mess
we planted
and implanted,
and now our
garden
grows sick
produce,
swarms with
flies,
and blooms
broken buds.
we will
plant seeds
elsewhere
next spring.
4.13.2010
you're still here
I pissed in a place
that smelled like
cigarette smoke
and somehow my
memory
slipped
towards you.
I think about
what I've flushed
away.
the time filled with
heated hate
red faced rage
of piss poor self perception
my endless deprecation
and the spaces
you filled
for me
when I
lacked a glass
to satisfy.
my smokey
conscious
curls a
kiss of grace
towards your corner
where I can
crawl to overcome
the cruel
attic of
unintention.
my intervention,
you ventured
sure footed
through these
gluey forests
for us
and for me.
these are the things
I think about while
I pee.
that smelled like
cigarette smoke
and somehow my
memory
slipped
towards you.
I think about
what I've flushed
away.
the time filled with
heated hate
red faced rage
of piss poor self perception
my endless deprecation
and the spaces
you filled
for me
when I
lacked a glass
to satisfy.
my smokey
conscious
curls a
kiss of grace
towards your corner
where I can
crawl to overcome
the cruel
attic of
unintention.
my intervention,
you ventured
sure footed
through these
gluey forests
for us
and for me.
these are the things
I think about while
I pee.
there's a gate around our house
dad loves
to lock our
broken
oak
door.
he traipses
towards the
door
and slides the silver
lock to the left.
and he seems to feel
relaxed now
that he has locked
everyone else
from his life.
I've watched him
in futile
frustration
wondering why he wants
to keep
everything
locked inside
himself
and this pile
of pink bricks.
And
I
wish
I had
the combination
to his lock,
and that I could
be the
pick
to his secrets,
that it was me
who
unlocked his silence
after all these years.
with a key and a click
I'd kill to open
what makes him tick.
open him like
an accordion
and find whats
between the folds.
for now I
follow him
and twist our
lock open,
hoping he will
get my point.
to lock our
broken
oak
door.
he traipses
towards the
door
and slides the silver
lock to the left.
and he seems to feel
relaxed now
that he has locked
everyone else
from his life.
I've watched him
in futile
frustration
wondering why he wants
to keep
everything
locked inside
himself
and this pile
of pink bricks.
And
I
wish
I had
the combination
to his lock,
and that I could
be the
pick
to his secrets,
that it was me
who
unlocked his silence
after all these years.
with a key and a click
I'd kill to open
what makes him tick.
open him like
an accordion
and find whats
between the folds.
for now I
follow him
and twist our
lock open,
hoping he will
get my point.
a new castle
I long
to leave
this childhood
bed.
this bed
is best
built
for one,
and I'd
rather sleep
by my man's
side;
someone to
lie beside.
I wish
to swap
this teddy
for more sturdy
arms,
and this faux
fur
for the swirled
black body hair
of a body guard
to guard bad dreams
and loosen my pajama's
seams during
thunderstorms.
I want a
bed built
for doubles
and adult sheets
to toss between
while we whisper
love sincerely
beneath down feather
blankets
feathering your fingers
through my hair.
I hold bated breath
for breakfast
in my double bed
of scrambled eggs
and buttered toast
we toast this space
our own
and only
when we are alone
we salute this slumber
palace
as our place.
to leave
this childhood
bed.
this bed
is best
built
for one,
and I'd
rather sleep
by my man's
side;
someone to
lie beside.
I wish
to swap
this teddy
for more sturdy
arms,
and this faux
fur
for the swirled
black body hair
of a body guard
to guard bad dreams
and loosen my pajama's
seams during
thunderstorms.
I want a
bed built
for doubles
and adult sheets
to toss between
while we whisper
love sincerely
beneath down feather
blankets
feathering your fingers
through my hair.
I hold bated breath
for breakfast
in my double bed
of scrambled eggs
and buttered toast
we toast this space
our own
and only
when we are alone
we salute this slumber
palace
as our place.
anatomy of the universe
I am your
crotch rocket;
you,
my astronaut.
let's
play space
as we speed
away
towards
stellar
blackness
and
sex
amongst the
stars.
this universe
is ours,
a glittering
salted canvas,
art
of infinite.
small
inside
swirled
layers of
cerulean dust
you steer us,
and I fly
as your ride
while
you explore
my
dark
galaxies
and find
with pride
a solar system
for you
to stroke.
set off
to the sun
just as
we run out
of gas
you expel your
milky way.
crotch rocket;
you,
my astronaut.
let's
play space
as we speed
away
towards
stellar
blackness
and
sex
amongst the
stars.
this universe
is ours,
a glittering
salted canvas,
art
of infinite.
small
inside
swirled
layers of
cerulean dust
you steer us,
and I fly
as your ride
while
you explore
my
dark
galaxies
and find
with pride
a solar system
for you
to stroke.
set off
to the sun
just as
we run out
of gas
you expel your
milky way.
4.07.2010
dad didn't buy that
gold and silver gifts
from strange guys
glitter
across your fingers.
you wave them as I wonder
where the hell those hands have
been.
do you cuddle
with
the cocks
of new dudes
as our
familial
glue
flounders?
what else
has touched
the guilt-ridden
dinner you've just prepared?
you peel our potatoes
wet
in your starched hands;
holding them gingerly
as you think of the other man.
even your clothes
don't smell like dad's cologne
after a
(now long gone)
goodbye kiss.
no
I love yous,
we've all been dismissed,
and now
you've gone from Mrs.
to Miss.
I
cringe
to share your kiss
with
him:
a picture of
lipsticked lips
stacked around
his dick
swallows
thick
in my throat.
I vote
you put
those hands
back in both
pockets.
please go
sparkle
for
someone else.
from strange guys
glitter
across your fingers.
you wave them as I wonder
where the hell those hands have
been.
do you cuddle
with
the cocks
of new dudes
as our
familial
glue
flounders?
what else
has touched
the guilt-ridden
dinner you've just prepared?
you peel our potatoes
wet
in your starched hands;
holding them gingerly
as you think of the other man.
even your clothes
don't smell like dad's cologne
after a
(now long gone)
goodbye kiss.
no
I love yous,
we've all been dismissed,
and now
you've gone from Mrs.
to Miss.
I
cringe
to share your kiss
with
him:
a picture of
lipsticked lips
stacked around
his dick
swallows
thick
in my throat.
I vote
you put
those hands
back in both
pockets.
please go
sparkle
for
someone else.
an empty room
discos spin silvery
mirrors across my skin,
symmetrical in their dance,
I'm hypnotized again.
I dance in darkness
to forget me,
the things I can't be,
and to shrug off gravity.
these worries weighing
in constant rotation
seem to stand in line
to be forgotten.
lipstick smears across my cheek
and sweat seeps down to the
pit
of my knees
while I pretend no one
can see.
I've cocoon myself
inside my music
with nothing
but these discofireflies
to remind me
of life outside
mirrors across my skin,
symmetrical in their dance,
I'm hypnotized again.
I dance in darkness
to forget me,
the things I can't be,
and to shrug off gravity.
these worries weighing
in constant rotation
seem to stand in line
to be forgotten.
lipstick smears across my cheek
and sweat seeps down to the
pit
of my knees
while I pretend no one
can see.
I've cocoon myself
inside my music
with nothing
but these discofireflies
to remind me
of life outside
4.06.2010
half-masticated
my father was taken
from me
too easily.
a soul once so loved
was plucked
from us,
still standing,
rapid as a rug.
it was citrus season
when it happened.
his coma left him
with a comma between my first
father and a frosty stranger.
dad's slumber softened in still freezing
february,
and he thirsted for oranges
only.
nurses promised fruit when
he could finally chew
properly.
I
too,
had to learn to chew
properly,
but even now
it is hard to swallow
modern medicine
marooned
him to an island
on his own where
he rarely
paddles back
with a visitor's
pass.
I've packed it
away
as best I can.
stacked in a suitcase
in my attic
of avoidance,
food for fruit flies
to fight for.
I've lost this war
and even oranges
have lost their allure
from me
too easily.
a soul once so loved
was plucked
from us,
still standing,
rapid as a rug.
it was citrus season
when it happened.
his coma left him
with a comma between my first
father and a frosty stranger.
dad's slumber softened in still freezing
february,
and he thirsted for oranges
only.
nurses promised fruit when
he could finally chew
properly.
I
too,
had to learn to chew
properly,
but even now
it is hard to swallow
modern medicine
marooned
him to an island
on his own where
he rarely
paddles back
with a visitor's
pass.
I've packed it
away
as best I can.
stacked in a suitcase
in my attic
of avoidance,
food for fruit flies
to fight for.
I've lost this war
and even oranges
have lost their allure
nature channel
the cottony curtains
exhale
fresh breath from
beyond glassed
windows
croaking
like widowed
frogs
wanting mates
and I sit to
appreciate
the ways
to bait you
into my bed.
propriety
and modesty
are dead
weight
when all
it takes
is
shaved legs
silken smiles
and brazen gazes
to burn ablaze
this pile of pillows.
say you will
oh, and we can dance
with our curtains
like slippery amphibians
until night becomes day again
exhale
fresh breath from
beyond glassed
windows
croaking
like widowed
frogs
wanting mates
and I sit to
appreciate
the ways
to bait you
into my bed.
propriety
and modesty
are dead
weight
when all
it takes
is
shaved legs
silken smiles
and brazen gazes
to burn ablaze
this pile of pillows.
say you will
oh, and we can dance
with our curtains
like slippery amphibians
until night becomes day again
garbage day is friday from what I've heard
I see your wicker
waste
paper basket is littered
with
broken bits
of condom boxes;
their white insides
don't quite hide
your two-timing
from me
or dad.
you hardly even
tried
to hustle the
hurriedly ripped
package
to the bottom of the trash
where we could at least
imagine
this isn't happening.
the Trojan helmet
glares in your garbage
and you are his horse
that snuck up on our house.
you kept this new men as yours
while you let them fuck you
on all fours
and we are still at home
forced to witness
whorish
empty boxes of once twenty-four.
one of many things you've
thrown away.
waste
paper basket is littered
with
broken bits
of condom boxes;
their white insides
don't quite hide
your two-timing
from me
or dad.
you hardly even
tried
to hustle the
hurriedly ripped
package
to the bottom of the trash
where we could at least
imagine
this isn't happening.
the Trojan helmet
glares in your garbage
and you are his horse
that snuck up on our house.
you kept this new men as yours
while you let them fuck you
on all fours
and we are still at home
forced to witness
whorish
empty boxes of once twenty-four.
one of many things you've
thrown away.
baby got back
her spectacular ass
asks,
grab
as
passers worship
her width,
broad hips,
and that mountainous gift.
daydreams drift like
tides as I wish
for that to be mine.
oh, how men linger and long
for an ass like ham
to pump their hips upon.
to stare down at
while those cocks go to bat.
I watch her bounce that backside
back and forth forming figure eights
and drag that freight through
thankful crowds.
she sneers, cries, covers it,
shy,
as I watch from afar and wonder, why?
she has the script of hypnotists;
a single peruse
of that caboose
and men want you.
a handful of pink flesh
to sink their palms into.
she sheds this power like
useless skin.
shrugs it off;
wasted again.
asks,
grab
as
passers worship
her width,
broad hips,
and that mountainous gift.
daydreams drift like
tides as I wish
for that to be mine.
oh, how men linger and long
for an ass like ham
to pump their hips upon.
to stare down at
while those cocks go to bat.
I watch her bounce that backside
back and forth forming figure eights
and drag that freight through
thankful crowds.
she sneers, cries, covers it,
shy,
as I watch from afar and wonder, why?
she has the script of hypnotists;
a single peruse
of that caboose
and men want you.
a handful of pink flesh
to sink their palms into.
she sheds this power like
useless skin.
shrugs it off;
wasted again.
3.31.2010
a thin gray line
I.
beauty is in the eye of the beholder
buy holder
stock seller
store owner
shop keeper
cash counter
money dropper
ad watcher
ideal dumper
see wanter
sell outter
same looker
happy never
II.
Beauty
Be auty
me gaudy
want havey
eye catchy
more passion
less time spent
not meant
all went
none left
face falls
with them
clone continue
catch can't
buy sold
sold out
out done
III.
beauty is in the why of the me holder
beauty is in the eye of the beholder
buy holder
stock seller
store owner
shop keeper
cash counter
money dropper
ad watcher
ideal dumper
see wanter
sell outter
same looker
happy never
II.
Beauty
Be auty
me gaudy
want havey
eye catchy
more passion
less time spent
not meant
all went
none left
face falls
with them
clone continue
catch can't
buy sold
sold out
out done
III.
beauty is in the why of the me holder
diss function
I ask dad with dread,
will mom be sleeping in your bed?
will mom be sleeping in town tonight?
around tonight?
she flew so fast
after the last fight,
a fast flight
a too
frequent
forage
to ruin other families.
she says he's more
manly
a great guy
who makes her giggle
and gasp
--I've asked to hear less.
I'm not impressed
with this
disappearing act
and how she just
gave dad the ax.
can't she sense
the impact
of
mid life mom
creating crisis at home
creeping in at all hours
unknown?
I don't want to know
where she goes
what she does
who is new
and see her flaws.
but who's to force
a family of four
to be functional?
will mom be sleeping in your bed?
will mom be sleeping in town tonight?
around tonight?
she flew so fast
after the last fight,
a fast flight
a too
frequent
forage
to ruin other families.
she says he's more
manly
a great guy
who makes her giggle
and gasp
--I've asked to hear less.
I'm not impressed
with this
disappearing act
and how she just
gave dad the ax.
can't she sense
the impact
of
mid life mom
creating crisis at home
creeping in at all hours
unknown?
I don't want to know
where she goes
what she does
who is new
and see her flaws.
but who's to force
a family of four
to be functional?
I never realized 6 am existed
at the nip of
slate dawn sky
sunrise raises
your hand inside my thighs.
soggy eyes lessen
and steal from dreams
as you loosen my seams.
birds barely begin to sing
before your bare hands burrow
nests between my breasts
and windows wind down dew drops
that slip snaking
as you through me
the somber sky swells
as sun yawns
into the horizon
of our love's revival
and now we smile in our sleep
slate dawn sky
sunrise raises
your hand inside my thighs.
soggy eyes lessen
and steal from dreams
as you loosen my seams.
birds barely begin to sing
before your bare hands burrow
nests between my breasts
and windows wind down dew drops
that slip snaking
as you through me
the somber sky swells
as sun yawns
into the horizon
of our love's revival
and now we smile in our sleep
the thesaurus has no entries for phallus
I pull this
long
yellow jacketed
phallus
from the bunch as I wonder,
can I eat this in public?
my fingers reverently
caress the rubbery
fruit's curved pleats
asking,
please?
and how can I resist
the soft
slimy succulence of
off-white sweetness
nestled within
?
I pine for the swift
snap and fold
over
open motion
octopus overtly
flails like flanges
and hulas dances
seduction.
it pushes all the
right buttons.
I grab my
golden gondola
to go.
I'll eat this meat
in public,
and let them enjoy my show
long
yellow jacketed
phallus
from the bunch as I wonder,
can I eat this in public?
my fingers reverently
caress the rubbery
fruit's curved pleats
asking,
please?
and how can I resist
the soft
slimy succulence of
off-white sweetness
nestled within
?
I pine for the swift
snap and fold
over
open motion
octopus overtly
flails like flanges
and hulas dances
seduction.
it pushes all the
right buttons.
I grab my
golden gondola
to go.
I'll eat this meat
in public,
and let them enjoy my show
cutting the umbliical cord
reborn
like Jesus
the birds
the bees
the trees
seeds spread spring
surrounding.
April tweets
sweetly
as I succumb
to this uncertain
surrender
winter has not left me;
the lead cloak of snowy
sadness has branded
me.
I am cocooned in the comfort
of this jacket
strait restraint
harpoons happy at bay
and I float atop
december's last icy island
isolated
as pre summer's sun
scotches my fortress
jesus spring beckons
blindly optimistic
innocence is in the air's
scent
as I too
am forced into
rebirth
like Jesus
the birds
the bees
the trees
seeds spread spring
surrounding.
April tweets
sweetly
as I succumb
to this uncertain
surrender
winter has not left me;
the lead cloak of snowy
sadness has branded
me.
I am cocooned in the comfort
of this jacket
strait restraint
harpoons happy at bay
and I float atop
december's last icy island
isolated
as pre summer's sun
scotches my fortress
jesus spring beckons
blindly optimistic
innocence is in the air's
scent
as I too
am forced into
rebirth
3.17.2010
this used to be our time
I.
best friend,
you make me a mess
friend.
I
sit in suspension
waiting
for friendship,
and I am in last place.
I am prom night alone.
I am picked last for basketball teams.
I am the fat child
plucking at loose seams
while the other kids swing.
I am loose,
it seems.
unraveling
and barely me
beneath
useless screams
and salty streams
I want to
drown
between.
and here, again,
it's as though
I've been picked last
on your team.
II.
outcasts
cast out
seem oceans apart,
but I hold you here in my heart
of hearts.
we walk
same saunter
we talk
same tempo
we feel
soul sames:
forwards and backwards
again
and sing the same refrain.
love leaves lonely
looking future forward
towards less tough times,
and even when you cannot be mine,
I will wait for you
if it means standing in line.
best friend,
you make me a mess
friend.
I
sit in suspension
waiting
for friendship,
and I am in last place.
I am prom night alone.
I am picked last for basketball teams.
I am the fat child
plucking at loose seams
while the other kids swing.
I am loose,
it seems.
unraveling
and barely me
beneath
useless screams
and salty streams
I want to
drown
between.
and here, again,
it's as though
I've been picked last
on your team.
II.
outcasts
cast out
seem oceans apart,
but I hold you here in my heart
of hearts.
we walk
same saunter
we talk
same tempo
we feel
soul sames:
forwards and backwards
again
and sing the same refrain.
love leaves lonely
looking future forward
towards less tough times,
and even when you cannot be mine,
I will wait for you
if it means standing in line.
fierce battle
miss thin skin
commits sinister
sins,
once again.
hate
and
hate
and
Hate:
capital H.
irate,
and going
straight
to hell.
I'm under this
spell that won't
mitigate
itself.
I've let them
win,
they've gotten
in
and spoiled me
soiled me
toiled with me
and I can feel
the
boiling
heat
and self
defeat.
I want to split
skin seams
and scrub some
spring cleaning.
re arrange
the strange
and strain
sad stuff.
patch it up
with thicker thread,
tougher tread,
and a clear head.
and in the end
I'll have a new spin,
miss thick skin
won't be so sick
commits sinister
sins,
once again.
hate
and
hate
and
Hate:
capital H.
irate,
and going
straight
to hell.
I'm under this
spell that won't
mitigate
itself.
I've let them
win,
they've gotten
in
and spoiled me
soiled me
toiled with me
and I can feel
the
boiling
heat
and self
defeat.
I want to split
skin seams
and scrub some
spring cleaning.
re arrange
the strange
and strain
sad stuff.
patch it up
with thicker thread,
tougher tread,
and a clear head.
and in the end
I'll have a new spin,
miss thick skin
won't be so sick
3.13.2010
you shouldn't have
flowers from my
father
ravishing red
roses protest
love with
I'm sorry yellow
swirling center.
ketchup and mustard
barely belong
vase mates
with lilting lilies
singing lively
while my roses dry,
dying.
I seep sorrow
for somber
flowers.
and we
reside side by side,
though you,too, let go
and died
now there are no
flowers
silky tower
bouquets okay
for me to watch
dry up
like us.
father
ravishing red
roses protest
love with
I'm sorry yellow
swirling center.
ketchup and mustard
barely belong
vase mates
with lilting lilies
singing lively
while my roses dry,
dying.
I seep sorrow
for somber
flowers.
and we
reside side by side,
though you,too, let go
and died
now there are no
flowers
silky tower
bouquets okay
for me to watch
dry up
like us.
you're still my mother
there was never lace
or black ruffles
soft chiffon
see through,
bows
or peek-a-boo.
underwear,
worn white,
was kept from
sight.
your jockey briefs
covered butt cheeks
briefly before
buttons and zippers
zipped
up tight.
scalloped seams
now beam
unseemly,
and now you wear
red to bed.
your crumpled
undergarments garnish
glaring garnet,
sex panties
peek promiscuous
from your suitcase
next
to your toothbrush
and pink blush.
and I've listened
too much
to your hushes
and whispers;
secrets with
misters
and now
I am missing
my good night
kisser.
please
come back to
your old,
white
underwear.
or black ruffles
soft chiffon
see through,
bows
or peek-a-boo.
underwear,
worn white,
was kept from
sight.
your jockey briefs
covered butt cheeks
briefly before
buttons and zippers
zipped
up tight.
scalloped seams
now beam
unseemly,
and now you wear
red to bed.
your crumpled
undergarments garnish
glaring garnet,
sex panties
peek promiscuous
from your suitcase
next
to your toothbrush
and pink blush.
and I've listened
too much
to your hushes
and whispers;
secrets with
misters
and now
I am missing
my good night
kisser.
please
come back to
your old,
white
underwear.
3.11.2010
not better or worse, just different
is what they tell you
when you compare.
but sometimes
same
seems so much easier.
especially since
I never asked
for this.
her eyes
and his hair,
and these are theirs
and I don't want
to be a dandelion
in a bed of roses.
the roses who
are beautiful
and have thorns
and I am defenseless.
no one ever wants a
bouquet of dandelions
when you compare.
but sometimes
same
seems so much easier.
especially since
I never asked
for this.
her eyes
and his hair,
and these are theirs
and I don't want
to be a dandelion
in a bed of roses.
the roses who
are beautiful
and have thorns
and I am defenseless.
no one ever wants a
bouquet of dandelions
you'll hardly notice when I don't come back
I saw this
a bicycle,
and thought
take me with you.
It was beautiful:
wide silver handlebars capped
with camel brown
rubber,
its body
wrapped in pink
chrysanthemums;
a garden that soared
between
spinning circles.
A slender escape,
It was grace on wheels,
and I wanted it.
I want a sweet release
on this floral chariot,
a wish granted
warm wind blown
crown of locks
unlocking me
and I somersault
in the breeze's kiss.
I will pedal
a pattern swift,
sailing.
grateful
in this
gift,
your garden
of bliss.
and
my no ones
will feel less
lonesome
when I
live
in this
sphere
where
happiness seems
more possible
than here.
a bicycle,
and thought
take me with you.
It was beautiful:
wide silver handlebars capped
with camel brown
rubber,
its body
wrapped in pink
chrysanthemums;
a garden that soared
between
spinning circles.
A slender escape,
It was grace on wheels,
and I wanted it.
I want a sweet release
on this floral chariot,
a wish granted
warm wind blown
crown of locks
unlocking me
and I somersault
in the breeze's kiss.
I will pedal
a pattern swift,
sailing.
grateful
in this
gift,
your garden
of bliss.
and
my no ones
will feel less
lonesome
when I
live
in this
sphere
where
happiness seems
more possible
than here.
3.09.2010
going down
I remember elevators
with you.
remember
elevator?
elevate her.
tension swells
pulls
I.
doors slide shut.
II.
hands slide
down.
III.
as you
lift
my skirt
IV.
have
a
quick
lick
V.
satin
sighs
between
wet
thighs
VI.
I look
down
and
we
are
all eyes
VII.
you
travel
through
me
hot
like
blood
VIII.
and I
quicken
for
you,
at
you,
near
you,
IX.
hear
me
sharp
breathe
hot
heave
you
plus
me
X.
marks the spot,
hit
the spot
this
is
the spot
and we got off
on
the last
stop.
with you.
remember
elevator?
elevate her.
tension swells
pulls
I.
doors slide shut.
II.
hands slide
down.
III.
as you
lift
my skirt
IV.
have
a
quick
lick
V.
satin
sighs
between
wet
thighs
VI.
I look
down
and
we
are
all eyes
VII.
you
travel
through
me
hot
like
blood
VIII.
and I
quicken
for
you,
at
you,
near
you,
IX.
hear
me
sharp
breathe
hot
heave
you
plus
me
X.
marks the spot,
hit
the spot
this
is
the spot
and we got off
on
the last
stop.
3.02.2010
everyone
Giveand
Giveand
Give
and
Could I
Would I
Should I?
I'd do anything for
shuteye
A goodbye
A
don’t ask why.
And no
afternoon
cries.
Let me be
more tv.
alone
what a treat
And
I won’t smile
no laughs for miles;
my new
style
adopted through
trial...
no errors
I've become
this
terror.
and no
more
thank yous
galore.
I'm sick of polite
this dishonest
plight
and if I’ve scarred
you
for life
I don’t care
a slight.
I hope you’ve felt
this
burn.
Its taken a turn
so much worse
and when you’re
hurt
(which I hope you were)
I’ll peel at your wounds
scars and scabs
stitches
and bitches
and point till
they laugh.
Finally,
you,
just go away.
It doesn’t
matter how
now.
So I can bask
in this emotional
drought.
Giveand
Give
and
Could I
Would I
Should I?
I'd do anything for
shuteye
A goodbye
A
don’t ask why.
And no
afternoon
cries.
Let me be
more tv.
alone
what a treat
And
I won’t smile
no laughs for miles;
my new
style
adopted through
trial...
no errors
I've become
this
terror.
and no
more
thank yous
galore.
I'm sick of polite
this dishonest
plight
and if I’ve scarred
you
for life
I don’t care
a slight.
I hope you’ve felt
this
burn.
Its taken a turn
so much worse
and when you’re
hurt
(which I hope you were)
I’ll peel at your wounds
scars and scabs
stitches
and bitches
and point till
they laugh.
Finally,
you,
just go away.
It doesn’t
matter how
now.
So I can bask
in this emotional
drought.
2.26.2010
doubts forever
what if
I gained fifty pounds?
I say.
he said,
that's ok, too.
and if
I sprout hairs on my chin,
liver spots on my knuckles
and
cankles where there once was
smooth
long
legs?
and what if
I lost my hair,
all of it.
and my now
luscious
tits
flattened like
pancakes
and dangled at my
belly?
would you then?
he says,
yes.
Yes,
even when
your knees crack
and your back aches.
and when you've got no teeth
and your eyes can't see.
even when
you pee when you laugh
and need extra ginko.
when your voice is stiff
and your skin is thin.
even then,
he says,
still.
but what if?
I gained fifty pounds?
I say.
he said,
that's ok, too.
and if
I sprout hairs on my chin,
liver spots on my knuckles
and
cankles where there once was
smooth
long
legs?
and what if
I lost my hair,
all of it.
and my now
luscious
tits
flattened like
pancakes
and dangled at my
belly?
would you then?
he says,
yes.
Yes,
even when
your knees crack
and your back aches.
and when you've got no teeth
and your eyes can't see.
even when
you pee when you laugh
and need extra ginko.
when your voice is stiff
and your skin is thin.
even then,
he says,
still.
but what if?
fruits of labor
I bathed.
my skin was lotioned
hot and open
and there was you
who
wanted.
opening me
like a ripe,
plump
papaya.
an offering
from all of me
a gift of gardening.
and you feasted
in the blackness
unafraid of the dark
and we were both full.
my skin was lotioned
hot and open
and there was you
who
wanted.
opening me
like a ripe,
plump
papaya.
an offering
from all of me
a gift of gardening.
and you feasted
in the blackness
unafraid of the dark
and we were both full.
conversation
things
and stuff.
like,
whatever.
duh.
totally!
ohmygod,
for sure!
sooo...
right?
(I know!)
for reals
and
sweet.
awesome.
or something.
and stuff.
like,
whatever.
duh.
totally!
ohmygod,
for sure!
sooo...
right?
(I know!)
for reals
and
sweet.
awesome.
or something.
and I won't have you mocking what I can become
you didn't look at me
before there was red lipstick.
I slink into my crimson costume
and I've got you.
feasting
on your would-be dinner.
I've made you a
sinner; impure.
how,
all of a sudden,
can you see my
allure
?
and
I sense your
hankering.
your heart hammers
a beat
increased
as my heels
snap past you
hard
as concrete.
eyes swing
obscenely.
wanting,
absconding
with me
your mind's possession,
you dream an obsession.
but you can put it away,
child's play.
because this isn't for you.
I have answered the question
you did not ask,
and we will not
fuck.
you will never
suck
on these,
my blessed rubies.
before there was red lipstick.
I slink into my crimson costume
and I've got you.
feasting
on your would-be dinner.
I've made you a
sinner; impure.
how,
all of a sudden,
can you see my
allure
?
and
I sense your
hankering.
your heart hammers
a beat
increased
as my heels
snap past you
hard
as concrete.
eyes swing
obscenely.
wanting,
absconding
with me
your mind's possession,
you dream an obsession.
but you can put it away,
child's play.
because this isn't for you.
I have answered the question
you did not ask,
and we will not
fuck.
you will never
suck
on these,
my blessed rubies.
all afternoon
we swallowed six shots
and fucked
licked and sucked
booze and you.
I watched as you blew
hot rum breath
breathed hot down bodies
sweat
and sex.
limbs amesh and
screaming flesh.
grasping hands like
spiders danced
groped
grabbed like rope.
crush my tits
into your mouth
devour them down
then move south:
crowd into my cunt
stiff grunt.
your cock and rocks
slap a beat symphonic
we wriggle and writhe
zig zag through the sack
lips pressed to neck
as
nails dig through back.
hump and pump
grab
my ass
fastened in hands.
smash and clatter
clasp
collapse
and laugh.
good fuck.
and fucked
licked and sucked
booze and you.
I watched as you blew
hot rum breath
breathed hot down bodies
sweat
and sex.
limbs amesh and
screaming flesh.
grasping hands like
spiders danced
groped
grabbed like rope.
crush my tits
into your mouth
devour them down
then move south:
crowd into my cunt
stiff grunt.
your cock and rocks
slap a beat symphonic
we wriggle and writhe
zig zag through the sack
lips pressed to neck
as
nails dig through back.
hump and pump
grab
my ass
fastened in hands.
smash and clatter
clasp
collapse
and laugh.
good fuck.
2.22.2010
fuel
I balloon
hot
like baked dirt
as rage licks
my insides.
I will combust,
a pepper flame,
and gorge
on everything
whole
and bask
in the now
crumbling,
ashy trail
of pieces
that once were.
Pardon my mess.
hot
like baked dirt
as rage licks
my insides.
I will combust,
a pepper flame,
and gorge
on everything
whole
and bask
in the now
crumbling,
ashy trail
of pieces
that once were.
Pardon my mess.
2.16.2010
love poem
I love you.
Seriously.
Your kinked black back hair
sends me on a magical journey.
And when you remove your shirt
to expose those soggy pecs
and use the corners of our dry wall
to scratch your back,
I grow weak at the knees.
You're still sexy,
even after all these years.
My heart beats quick
at night
in the dark
when you remove your
saggy white hanes
and hang them over the fan.
I can hardly contain myself.
I even love the hair sprouting
from your
badass
closed up
once-pierced ear.
Man of my dreams.
Seriously.
Your kinked black back hair
sends me on a magical journey.
And when you remove your shirt
to expose those soggy pecs
and use the corners of our dry wall
to scratch your back,
I grow weak at the knees.
You're still sexy,
even after all these years.
My heart beats quick
at night
in the dark
when you remove your
saggy white hanes
and hang them over the fan.
I can hardly contain myself.
I even love the hair sprouting
from your
badass
closed up
once-pierced ear.
Man of my dreams.
bored in february
Thank you, valentine,
for the crimson roses
and the velvet box
of chocolate.
And that teddy bear
holding the stuffed pink heart
with lace
that said,
I love you.
they were fine.
Sure
I love you,
too.
for the crimson roses
and the velvet box
of chocolate.
And that teddy bear
holding the stuffed pink heart
with lace
that said,
I love you.
they were fine.
Sure
I love you,
too.
2.09.2010
apology
I am sorry for those
disparaging remarks
about everything.
you are not fat
or ugly.
your thighs are perfect.
you have a lovely smile.
I am sorry.
I should be.
I should mean it.
I'm sorry I feel this way,
really.
God is so generous
and here I am
just spitting
on everything.
I'm so sorry.
disparaging remarks
about everything.
you are not fat
or ugly.
your thighs are perfect.
you have a lovely smile.
I am sorry.
I should be.
I should mean it.
I'm sorry I feel this way,
really.
God is so generous
and here I am
just spitting
on everything.
I'm so sorry.
roadkill
I know when it is finally spring
or fall
when animals
by the dozen
lie dead in the road.
I witness a
naive forage into our world
gone terribly wrong
as a poor raccoon
or rabbit
has succumbed
to the hot rubber
and exhaust
of rush hour.
do we notice
as two tons of luxury steel
demolishes life
into a hot stew
that drags for miles
?
it will be spring soon
and a part of me has already died.
or fall
when animals
by the dozen
lie dead in the road.
I witness a
naive forage into our world
gone terribly wrong
as a poor raccoon
or rabbit
has succumbed
to the hot rubber
and exhaust
of rush hour.
do we notice
as two tons of luxury steel
demolishes life
into a hot stew
that drags for miles
?
it will be spring soon
and a part of me has already died.
socially retarded
"do you have a web?"
I have introduced myself,
again.
"Charlotte? Well, you don't
look
like a spider!"
haha.
how clever of you.
this is why I stay
at home.
I have introduced myself,
again.
"Charlotte? Well, you don't
look
like a spider!"
haha.
how clever of you.
this is why I stay
at home.
2.04.2010
first aid
pain,
my mom always said,
is the body's way
of telling me
that something's wrong.
but
I can tell her to put the icepack
back
in the fridge.
she can't see
my dull ache
that I keep for myself
to hum inside me like
kryptonite.
waiting.
I have a wrecking ball
close to my chest
where I can listen to the sound
of my bones
crumbling inside me
while my heart seeps
through the cracks
of a shallow grave,
defeated.
something is wrong,
my body is telling me,
but I can't mend it.
I listen to the low hum
of waiting.
my mom always said,
is the body's way
of telling me
that something's wrong.
but
I can tell her to put the icepack
back
in the fridge.
she can't see
my dull ache
that I keep for myself
to hum inside me like
kryptonite.
waiting.
I have a wrecking ball
close to my chest
where I can listen to the sound
of my bones
crumbling inside me
while my heart seeps
through the cracks
of a shallow grave,
defeated.
something is wrong,
my body is telling me,
but I can't mend it.
I listen to the low hum
of waiting.
a concession
you bugs.
you offensive, detestable things!
you repulsive
crop of aliens
that lurk in the
dark corners of
my cozy home.
your greasy black
shell slithers
atop numerous
spindly legs...
that I would like to rip off.
your eyes, worse yet,
are there two, six, or four,
that gleam at me,
plotting?
you vinyly crunchy
sado-masochism bondagey things.
goo.
yeah, I'm talking to you.
I watch you rub those legarms
together
in anticipation of our show down.
but we both know
that you will win.
you will sneakily slink
towards me on those
thorny legs, calculating.
and I will jerk backwards and jump
atop the nearest chair
until you take your
wriggling antenna
and skedaddle.
and yet, you...
you bugs...
are another
of God's diverse
(I still say ugly)
creatures.
I'll watch your
twitchy conspiring
from across the room
but I still can't bring myself to squash you.
you offensive, detestable things!
you repulsive
crop of aliens
that lurk in the
dark corners of
my cozy home.
your greasy black
shell slithers
atop numerous
spindly legs...
that I would like to rip off.
your eyes, worse yet,
are there two, six, or four,
that gleam at me,
plotting?
you vinyly crunchy
sado-masochism bondagey things.
goo.
yeah, I'm talking to you.
I watch you rub those legarms
together
in anticipation of our show down.
but we both know
that you will win.
you will sneakily slink
towards me on those
thorny legs, calculating.
and I will jerk backwards and jump
atop the nearest chair
until you take your
wriggling antenna
and skedaddle.
and yet, you...
you bugs...
are another
of God's diverse
(I still say ugly)
creatures.
I'll watch your
twitchy conspiring
from across the room
but I still can't bring myself to squash you.
generations of use
grandma's hands
have skin that is
tissue thin.
soft, like wax.
her veins are an oxidized green,
a busy road map of her life.
her nails are yellowed with age,
like an old news paper,
yet fortified
like strong will.
her palms are sewn with
deep-set riverbeds of good fortune,
and her fingertips swirl
gracefully,
yet whimsically;
a testament to her subtle humor.
She clasps my hand in hers
where I can admire
the time and beauty of her lived-in
hands.
The hands that mothered four children
that delicately formed matzo balls for her
hot soup.
That sewed my baby blanket as it fell apart,
and mastered massage.
The hands that folded quietly every morning
in somber meditation at sunrise.
These hands where mine were clasped
were well-loved.
We didn't earn them, but they were for us.
have skin that is
tissue thin.
soft, like wax.
her veins are an oxidized green,
a busy road map of her life.
her nails are yellowed with age,
like an old news paper,
yet fortified
like strong will.
her palms are sewn with
deep-set riverbeds of good fortune,
and her fingertips swirl
gracefully,
yet whimsically;
a testament to her subtle humor.
She clasps my hand in hers
where I can admire
the time and beauty of her lived-in
hands.
The hands that mothered four children
that delicately formed matzo balls for her
hot soup.
That sewed my baby blanket as it fell apart,
and mastered massage.
The hands that folded quietly every morning
in somber meditation at sunrise.
These hands where mine were clasped
were well-loved.
We didn't earn them, but they were for us.
didn't get your text
lol
is for
la la la laugh out loud
when you're not around.
ha ha ha how funny,
clever, and witty!
lol
is for
la la la lost the energy to call you.
and fell asleep. oops.
ha ha ha have nothing more to say,
lol in the conversation.
lol
is for
la la la last time we spoke?
sorry, I've been busy.
ha ha ha heard your voicemail
did you need to talk?
lol
is for
la la la later we'll catch up
if I have the time
ha ha ha had something good
but dropped the call
who's lol-ing now?
is for
la la la laugh out loud
when you're not around.
ha ha ha how funny,
clever, and witty!
lol
is for
la la la lost the energy to call you.
and fell asleep. oops.
ha ha ha have nothing more to say,
lol in the conversation.
lol
is for
la la la last time we spoke?
sorry, I've been busy.
ha ha ha heard your voicemail
did you need to talk?
lol
is for
la la la later we'll catch up
if I have the time
ha ha ha had something good
but dropped the call
who's lol-ing now?
home
i love this
crook
in your arm,
just so.
this spot
where i can rest my cheek
between your chest
and shoulder.
it is warm
and right
and when lie together,
jigsaw-perfect,
entwined as
a jungle of limbs,
i don't wish.
the world is far gone
and i sink
into this niche
not asking for it back.
crook
in your arm,
just so.
this spot
where i can rest my cheek
between your chest
and shoulder.
it is warm
and right
and when lie together,
jigsaw-perfect,
entwined as
a jungle of limbs,
i don't wish.
the world is far gone
and i sink
into this niche
not asking for it back.
encounters with strangers
as I am walking,
just walking,
a white jeep backs
quickly into my path.
dude! learn how to drive,
I scold the driver,
with whom I am now face
to face
save for the
dense glass window
between us.
a second flashes in his
iced eyes,
which meet mine.
he is young,
sixteenish maybe,
and stunned into silence.
the boy understands me
and I walk on to finish my day,
but he stays with me.
just walking,
a white jeep backs
quickly into my path.
dude! learn how to drive,
I scold the driver,
with whom I am now face
to face
save for the
dense glass window
between us.
a second flashes in his
iced eyes,
which meet mine.
he is young,
sixteenish maybe,
and stunned into silence.
the boy understands me
and I walk on to finish my day,
but he stays with me.
some nerve
today my father cradled me in his arms
for the first time
in eight years
and said,
I love you.
I love you,
and cried
into my shoulder.
tell me,
father,
where was your shoulder
when I needed to cry?
you left me
your baby girl
your daughter
for the cold plastic
and rubber
of your favorite remote control.
did you think of me
while you were plastered
to the couch,
drooling
on what we could have shared?
no.
you turned the volume up
or changed the channel.
you flopped over,
and finished your slumber.
while I screamed your name
for eight years.
this feels
to me
a bit like remote control.
for the first time
in eight years
and said,
I love you.
I love you,
and cried
into my shoulder.
tell me,
father,
where was your shoulder
when I needed to cry?
you left me
your baby girl
your daughter
for the cold plastic
and rubber
of your favorite remote control.
did you think of me
while you were plastered
to the couch,
drooling
on what we could have shared?
no.
you turned the volume up
or changed the channel.
you flopped over,
and finished your slumber.
while I screamed your name
for eight years.
this feels
to me
a bit like remote control.
1.30.2010
an ode
they give us these
--it's not our choice--
and we are judged
before our voice.
but here they are,
they must be crucial,
or else this material would not be so fruitful.
Here they sit,
(some call them tits),
these chest protruders
make rude men ruder.
melons, girls, and sometimes and boobs
my boyfriend often says "jahoobs"
twins, hoohas,
you've got a, nice rack,
I was talking,
have you lost track?
twins because there are two,
knockers, also, but you can't come through.
tata's, titties, itty- bitties
it's not true that small ones are shitty.
and some say, honkers, though they don't make noise
I've gotten so sick of being touched by boys.
jerks who call them hooters
ought to be neutered
"fun bags" is even worse
if you want to play you better ask first.
cutesy names are sometimes nice;
except headlights or mosquito bites.
flat and flabby when we're old and crabby,
when we're young, men get grabby.
Round or plump
or thin and small
it's even ok if you've none at all.
try and be thankful for what you've got
because it's special, this twin crop.
--it's not our choice--
and we are judged
before our voice.
but here they are,
they must be crucial,
or else this material would not be so fruitful.
Here they sit,
(some call them tits),
these chest protruders
make rude men ruder.
melons, girls, and sometimes and boobs
my boyfriend often says "jahoobs"
twins, hoohas,
you've got a, nice rack,
I was talking,
have you lost track?
twins because there are two,
knockers, also, but you can't come through.
tata's, titties, itty- bitties
it's not true that small ones are shitty.
and some say, honkers, though they don't make noise
I've gotten so sick of being touched by boys.
jerks who call them hooters
ought to be neutered
"fun bags" is even worse
if you want to play you better ask first.
cutesy names are sometimes nice;
except headlights or mosquito bites.
flat and flabby when we're old and crabby,
when we're young, men get grabby.
Round or plump
or thin and small
it's even ok if you've none at all.
try and be thankful for what you've got
because it's special, this twin crop.
for the millionth time
If there's something I know, it's being fat;
I've always been quite good at that.
Sweat,treadmills,diet pills,
torture 'til I've had my fill.
Acupuncture and Weight loss shakes
do not a thin women make.
Ab rollers and south beach, too
I've spent days in spanx
'til I turn blue.
Herbal remedies, Jenny Craig,
special tea, drink the dregs.
I've tried everything, alli too,
low-carb diets erase my stool.
And when I'm done I'll check my mirror
adjust my eyes to see me clearer,
front view forward,
side view next...
what's he thinking when we have sex?
lift this here, jiggle that
drown in the gravity of being fat.
look at these legs,
they're like trees.
I stare at myself and feel obese.
double chins and muffin tops,
this dieting thing is such a flop.
I've always been quite good at that.
Sweat,treadmills,diet pills,
torture 'til I've had my fill.
Acupuncture and Weight loss shakes
do not a thin women make.
Ab rollers and south beach, too
I've spent days in spanx
'til I turn blue.
Herbal remedies, Jenny Craig,
special tea, drink the dregs.
I've tried everything, alli too,
low-carb diets erase my stool.
And when I'm done I'll check my mirror
adjust my eyes to see me clearer,
front view forward,
side view next...
what's he thinking when we have sex?
lift this here, jiggle that
drown in the gravity of being fat.
look at these legs,
they're like trees.
I stare at myself and feel obese.
double chins and muffin tops,
this dieting thing is such a flop.
1.26.2010
valentine's day is all year
I am fourteen again when my boyfriend of four years tells me that I am "the bomb."
A "munchkin bomb," to be exact, because I apparently resemble an exploding donut... or midget. Maybe I am just a small bomb?
I haven't figured this out yet.
Yes, he says, I am the bomb. I am cool. I am Cute. He likes my smile, and I'm the entire package. The entire explosive package. And I hold his hand, mine.
I don't know what a "munchkin bomb" is, and I've decided not to ask. I like his clever pet names; endearing and sweet. Nonsensical, no doubt, but isn't love, sometimes?
A "munchkin bomb," to be exact, because I apparently resemble an exploding donut... or midget. Maybe I am just a small bomb?
I haven't figured this out yet.
Yes, he says, I am the bomb. I am cool. I am Cute. He likes my smile, and I'm the entire package. The entire explosive package. And I hold his hand, mine.
I don't know what a "munchkin bomb" is, and I've decided not to ask. I like his clever pet names; endearing and sweet. Nonsensical, no doubt, but isn't love, sometimes?
divorced
my definition of forever changed when you said goodbye. we all did, really.
to normalcy. to comfort. to old expectations.
we all did.
I didn't think we'd be here forever, not really. But part of me wanted to.
stay embedded warm comforts of home. soak in the laughter of elation-- if only for a little while longer.
time is such a bitch, we've always said that. thrust upon us without warning, and "here, you deal."
I guess we will, somehow. In our own, separate ways.
and though I was prepared for forever, time seems slower now that you're gone. Now that we all are.
to normalcy. to comfort. to old expectations.
we all did.
I didn't think we'd be here forever, not really. But part of me wanted to.
stay embedded warm comforts of home. soak in the laughter of elation-- if only for a little while longer.
time is such a bitch, we've always said that. thrust upon us without warning, and "here, you deal."
I guess we will, somehow. In our own, separate ways.
and though I was prepared for forever, time seems slower now that you're gone. Now that we all are.
indebted
sometimes, I think,
this was all made for me.
In my moment of selfishness the world blooms immodestly before me;
For a moment I believe I deserve it.
it's a longish moment that sets time ablaze,
and I am just in awe.
I unfold like spring,
born anew.
asking nothing, I'm handed the world.
Here, digest,
but chew slow.
I will.
this was all made for me.
In my moment of selfishness the world blooms immodestly before me;
For a moment I believe I deserve it.
it's a longish moment that sets time ablaze,
and I am just in awe.
I unfold like spring,
born anew.
asking nothing, I'm handed the world.
Here, digest,
but chew slow.
I will.
harvesting season
you
are my forbidden fruit
golden delicious.
a tantalizing torture:
innocence
and sin
embedded within.
a tango of seduction
ripe skin waiting,
ready to be plucked
dangle before me
and we will entangle,
entwined.
you are a
succulent
debauchery.
I will
drink
you in like a deep breath,
devour you whole
and you will be mine
until there's none left.
are my forbidden fruit
golden delicious.
a tantalizing torture:
innocence
and sin
embedded within.
a tango of seduction
ripe skin waiting,
ready to be plucked
dangle before me
and we will entangle,
entwined.
you are a
succulent
debauchery.
I will
drink
you in like a deep breath,
devour you whole
and you will be mine
until there's none left.
a memory
I was the fat kid.
I remember that.
Thick plastic glasses
and lopsided, home-cut bangs.
and fat. Always
fat.
Pigpink cheeks and fleshy fingers
like plump German sausages
burrowed in my
saline soaked sheets.
I cried
I remember that.
Puffed emerald eyes
swollen
with the prickling sting
of invectives,
a buffet of wounds
that ravaged a
breadcrumb
trail through my childhood.
I am the fat kid
I can't seem to forget it.
I remember that.
Thick plastic glasses
and lopsided, home-cut bangs.
and fat. Always
fat.
Pigpink cheeks and fleshy fingers
like plump German sausages
burrowed in my
saline soaked sheets.
I cried
I remember that.
Puffed emerald eyes
swollen
with the prickling sting
of invectives,
a buffet of wounds
that ravaged a
breadcrumb
trail through my childhood.
I am the fat kid
I can't seem to forget it.
self fulfilling prophsey
I've created this shell
--my own personal hell--
it prickles and burns
but
I wear it close;
cuddle up
until I suffocate under the
weight
of my own gravity.
I love this depravity.
I've grown to know the pain,
old friend.
I laugh
and I laugh,
and they join me.
--my own personal hell--
it prickles and burns
but
I wear it close;
cuddle up
until I suffocate under the
weight
of my own gravity.
I love this depravity.
I've grown to know the pain,
old friend.
I laugh
and I laugh,
and they join me.
1.23.2010
fruitful
i love a peach.
peaches:
to have a gardenful
of
perfect
delicious peaches.
their papery skin
whispers a juicy secret to my mouth.
an offering.
But I shop for them--
I hate that.
here they are
piled carelessly under fluorescent lights
just wilting.
and bruised,
all of them,
so fragile.
I'll find one
a beautiful orangeyellow
one...
not perfect.
but juicy.
sweet imperfection
let it
d r i p
down
my
chin.
peaches:
to have a gardenful
of
perfect
delicious peaches.
their papery skin
whispers a juicy secret to my mouth.
an offering.
But I shop for them--
I hate that.
here they are
piled carelessly under fluorescent lights
just wilting.
and bruised,
all of them,
so fragile.
I'll find one
a beautiful orangeyellow
one...
not perfect.
but juicy.
sweet imperfection
let it
d r i p
down
my
chin.
Hungry
I want you
want.
you.
in the
worst
possible way.
I want to slurp
suck
lick
those s l i c k
fingers;
whorled pads;
infinity.
I want to
trace
taste
your body:
from the sharp,
dangerous
edge of your toes
to the passionred
tip
of your tongue.
I want to swallow,
follow,
you inside me.
s l o w l y
I will tingle
in my fingers
and thighs.
Our bodies will mingle
soft sighs
inside
me
I
am
inside
you.
We thrash
lash.
r o l l
myhips
r o l l
myeyes.
Heaves
relief.
Knowing glances.
Afternoon snack.
want.
you.
in the
worst
possible way.
I want to slurp
suck
lick
those s l i c k
fingers;
whorled pads;
infinity.
I want to
trace
taste
your body:
from the sharp,
dangerous
edge of your toes
to the passionred
tip
of your tongue.
I want to swallow,
follow,
you inside me.
s l o w l y
I will tingle
in my fingers
and thighs.
Our bodies will mingle
soft sighs
inside
me
I
am
inside
you.
We thrash
lash.
r o l l
myhips
r o l l
myeyes.
Heaves
relief.
Knowing glances.
Afternoon snack.
1.12.2010
act 3
i want to believe you,
i do.
i know you wouldn't lie.
i don't think
But to me, it is. They all are.
lies
And i want to believe myself:
i love me
(no i don't.)
i look away because we are dishonest. One of us is faking, and i'm just so tired.
i've never been a good liar so I learned to apologize,
just not to myself.
So i say
Thank You
with a hollow grin and sad eyes.
(no, not really).
and maybe i can convince you
i do.
i know you wouldn't lie.
i don't think
But to me, it is. They all are.
lies
And i want to believe myself:
i love me
(no i don't.)
i look away because we are dishonest. One of us is faking, and i'm just so tired.
i've never been a good liar so I learned to apologize,
just not to myself.
So i say
Thank You
with a hollow grin and sad eyes.
(no, not really).
and maybe i can convince you
I can't have it
My friend is beautiful, and sometimes I hate her.
not really
She is the pretty one. She is always the pretty one.
When she walks in the room, people stare: she is every fairy tale. a freckled goldie locks. Tall with white teeth. She is the swan. She is Cindarella and Sleeping Beauty.
She is beauty, and I, the Beast.
I want to be the pretty one,
Just once.
I want to throw out all my lipstick and stilettos, burn my pantyhose and ditch painted toes. I'm tired of trying so hard when it could be so easy.
She will never understand her power, not really. She has always been the pretty one.
And maybe I'm smart. And maybe I'm funny.
But she is beautiful
And it is so unfair
it is so
unfair.
not really
She is the pretty one. She is always the pretty one.
When she walks in the room, people stare: she is every fairy tale. a freckled goldie locks. Tall with white teeth. She is the swan. She is Cindarella and Sleeping Beauty.
She is beauty, and I, the Beast.
I want to be the pretty one,
Just once.
I want to throw out all my lipstick and stilettos, burn my pantyhose and ditch painted toes. I'm tired of trying so hard when it could be so easy.
She will never understand her power, not really. She has always been the pretty one.
And maybe I'm smart. And maybe I'm funny.
But she is beautiful
And it is so unfair
it is so
unfair.
3rd place
I want to be the best at something, a definitive example for everyone else.
I want my name laser-cut in gold and plastered on an oak block to be hung in a long marble hallway.
The Best
I imagine glittering metallic trophy shelves. Statues arranged in perfect rows, frozen in time; forever a testament to perfection.
Maybe I'd name them. Say hello and wish them goodnight.
"we love you," they'd say, "tell us a story, please?"
It's not me though, really. That perfection stuff is so glossy.
It's the neighbors' lawn.
A Martha Stewart Pie.
My shelves are filled with books. novels and reference. How to's and why do's.
My shelves are filled with honorable mentions and thanks for participatings.
They are full, and yet, not so much.
I want my name laser-cut in gold and plastered on an oak block to be hung in a long marble hallway.
The Best
I imagine glittering metallic trophy shelves. Statues arranged in perfect rows, frozen in time; forever a testament to perfection.
Maybe I'd name them. Say hello and wish them goodnight.
"we love you," they'd say, "tell us a story, please?"
It's not me though, really. That perfection stuff is so glossy.
It's the neighbors' lawn.
A Martha Stewart Pie.
My shelves are filled with books. novels and reference. How to's and why do's.
My shelves are filled with honorable mentions and thanks for participatings.
They are full, and yet, not so much.
i'll say it if i want
HATE
just rolls off the tongue.
HHAATTEE
I'd eat it for breakfast and breathe fire all day. I'd feel the satisfying burn until dusk.
yum, delicious.
then I'd burp a red ring of smoke that will linger like fog
confident,
unscathed by good intentions.
i love you, hate.
my hate.
just rolls off the tongue.
HHAATTEE
I'd eat it for breakfast and breathe fire all day. I'd feel the satisfying burn until dusk.
yum, delicious.
then I'd burp a red ring of smoke that will linger like fog
confident,
unscathed by good intentions.
i love you, hate.
my hate.
1.07.2010
love letter
Dearest father,
I hate you. I've hated you since I was fourteen, and now you should know.
I've fantasized about your demise, smiling inside. Sometimes I've thought of doing it myself. Something brutal. Something slow. I want to watch your regret. And I'd watch you try to be sorry.
But you never are. Never.
And you have no regrets, selfish man.
What do you care about? You've memorized the tv guide. Your computers always on. You have tons of shit. Useless shit.
You have two kids. You have a wife.
And you are useless.
Where is your love? What is your love?
I dreamt about it once, what it could be. Maybe you'd come home with my favorite mexican food and ask to have dinner with me. Maybe you'd wish me goodnight. Maybe you'd say you're proud. You love me. You want me. I'm beautiful, and you're so grateful.
Maybe you'd even care about something, anything, other than yourself.
But I awake everyday to the devastating reality of you. Your lazy saunter. Your permanent scowl. The unmitigated disappointment you've caused me.
You stay here; I must go now. I will not turn back.
I'm not sorry.
But neither are you, I think.
I hate you. I've hated you since I was fourteen, and now you should know.
I've fantasized about your demise, smiling inside. Sometimes I've thought of doing it myself. Something brutal. Something slow. I want to watch your regret. And I'd watch you try to be sorry.
But you never are. Never.
And you have no regrets, selfish man.
What do you care about? You've memorized the tv guide. Your computers always on. You have tons of shit. Useless shit.
You have two kids. You have a wife.
And you are useless.
Where is your love? What is your love?
I dreamt about it once, what it could be. Maybe you'd come home with my favorite mexican food and ask to have dinner with me. Maybe you'd wish me goodnight. Maybe you'd say you're proud. You love me. You want me. I'm beautiful, and you're so grateful.
Maybe you'd even care about something, anything, other than yourself.
But I awake everyday to the devastating reality of you. Your lazy saunter. Your permanent scowl. The unmitigated disappointment you've caused me.
You stay here; I must go now. I will not turn back.
I'm not sorry.
But neither are you, I think.
most successful recipe
I feel the slow, hot burn of unremitting rage.
I am a furnace of anger; I slow cook my insides on high heat until they roast.
Boil.
Then ignite.
I am enveloped in the agonizing pincushion of hate. and it's for you. Please accept my offering, darling.
I've wrapped it in red. Mad red. I hope you don't mind? It's all I have. And it's for you.
You go ahead and take it. Suffer with it. Suffer with me.
Hate me back.
Do it.
I DARE you.
And then you will cook. You will Sizzle and prickle. I hope you are pan-fried alive from the inside.
Do you feel it yet?
I am a furnace of anger; I slow cook my insides on high heat until they roast.
Boil.
Then ignite.
I am enveloped in the agonizing pincushion of hate. and it's for you. Please accept my offering, darling.
I've wrapped it in red. Mad red. I hope you don't mind? It's all I have. And it's for you.
You go ahead and take it. Suffer with it. Suffer with me.
Hate me back.
Do it.
I DARE you.
And then you will cook. You will Sizzle and prickle. I hope you are pan-fried alive from the inside.
Do you feel it yet?
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